


The Pirate Who Shouldn't Be

by HipsterIzzy



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Eventual Smut, Forced Marriage, M/M, Multi, Pirate AU, don't worry the wedding doesn't happen, tags will be edited later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2018-10-19 00:06:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10628022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HipsterIzzy/pseuds/HipsterIzzy
Summary: Among the pirates that terrorize the world's trade routes, there is one name to fear above all else:  Handsome Jack.  Known for attacking pirates and authorities alike, he's made quite the name for himself in his quest for revenge.  But what happens when a spoiled lord's son stows away in order to escape his arranged marriage to the governor's daughter?





	1. Of Weddings and Pirate Raids

**Author's Note:**

> Yes hello I've been...INSPIRED. [Zellie Almasy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ZellieAlmasy) reblogged a drawing of Handsome Jack as a pirate, and we spent my whole work shift yesterday plotting up a pirate au, so...here we go! I don't wanna give away too much yet, and I'm sorry my summary sucks, but uh...I hope you like it? I banged this chapter out in a matter of hours, which is a fucking record for me, I think. Hopefully I'll have much more soon.

“And of course, we’ll need to have the garden fresh and ready. I was thinking of having lilies brought in, what do you think, Rhys? Rhys? Rhys!” His mother’s harsh voice quickly pulled Rhys from the daydream of creaking ropes and salty air. “It’s not just Fiona’s wedding day, dear. It’s yours. Pay attention.”

“Yes, mother, of course. I’m sorry. What were you saying?” he asked, feigning interest. The truth was, Rhys couldn’t be more bored if he were at church. His upcoming marriage to the governor’s daughter was something he’d dreaded since he’d been informed on the matter. Fiona was currently seated beside him, talking rather excitedly about flowers with his mother. Rhys wished he could slip away from the women, if not to escape to the tavern, then at least to join his father and the governor. Unfortunately, both women insisted that he be involved in the wedding planning process.

“Rhys,” it was Fiona this time, nudging him gently in his ribs with her elbow, “why don’t we go have a look at the garden? It would give us inspiration, perhaps.” She was as bored as he was. They’d been introduced as children, and betrothed almost as long. It was a good match, politically, and they did get along. But neither actually cared to marry the other. They had been honest with each other from the beginning, and when Rhys had discovered his unconventional desires, he’d chosen to confide in her alone (aside from the men he bedded in secret).

“That’s a lovely idea, Fiona. You’re such a smart girl,” Rhys’s mother replied as she stood. “Maybe Rhys can figure out whether or not lilies would look nice out there.”

“Lilies look nice everywhere, mother. If you want them, we’ll get them.” He stood and offered an arm to each woman, allowing them to lead him out to the garden. That space had been his mother’s pride and joy since he could remember. His father had always gotten any seed she desired, as long as the climate would support it. As they strolled out onto the grass, Lady Gallagher began to fill the young pair in on the various flowers and plants surrounding them. Fiona kept up the conversation, asking questions here and there, giving feedback on what Lady Gallagher was saying in regards to how they should set up the garden to host guests after the wedding. The ceremony would be held in the local church, of course, but guests had been encouraged to come to the Gallaghers’ estate after.

Rhys released both ladies’ arms, under the guise of stopping to inspect a nearby tree. But as he looked away from the women, a sharp cry of pain had him turning his head right back. Fiona was on the ground, clutching her ankle, and Lady Gallagher was bent over to fuss over her. He rushed quickly to her side. “Darling, what’s happened?”

“I…I seem to have taken a misstep!” Fiona cried, tears welling in her eyes. One look, and Rhys knew she was faking.

“Rhys, go and fetch someone! Don’t stand there gawking, she’s your bride-to-be!” his mother cried. He nodded and turned to rush into the house, quickly finding the governor and his father.

“Sir, you’ve got to come quick!” For added effect, he tugged on the governor’s sleeve, urging the old man into action. “Fiona’s hurt herself, she needs you!” At the mention of his daughter, the governor followed quickly, allowing Rhys to lead him outside. Lord Gallagher was close on their heels.

“Fiona, what’s happened, love?” the governor asked, quick to rush to her side and help her up.

Fiona gave him a weak smile. “It’s nothing, only a sprain, I believe.”

“No, love, we must get you to the doctor! My Lord, my Lady…Young Rhys…I’m terribly sorry, but we’ll have to postpone planning the wedding,” he said, dipping his head to each one as they were addressed. Waving him off, Rhys’s father stepped forward to help the governor escort Fiona back inside. As they did so, Rhys went to fetch a servant to bring the governor’s carriage around.

As the driver pulled the carriage up, the governor and Lord Gallagher made their way down the steps with Fiona. Rhys dutifully helped them get her seated in the back, kissing the back of her hand with a grateful smile and definitely not missing the wink she sent him when their eyes met. Once her father had gone around and climbed in the other side, he shut the door and waved goodbye as it pulled away.

“Well, that was certainly exciting,” his father remarked, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ve got business to attend to in town. Would you like to come along, Rhys?”

Pretending to think a moment, Rhys nodded. “I think I’d like that very much. Perhaps Vaughn will be at his father’s tavern, working on his studies.” Though it may be controversial for a lord’s son to run about with men beneath his status, living in a port town didn’t afford Rhys with many options in the way of appropriate friends. And the tavern owner’s son was a mild-mannered boy, studying on his own to become an accountant. He often hung about the tavern and offered help to poorer sailors, getting their books in order.

“That will be just fine, I think,” Lord Gallagher said, smiling to his son. “Go and grab your hat, I’ll have the carriage pulled around.”

*****

Upon entering the tavern, Rhys immediately found his friend tucked away in his usual corner, poring over a large book. He strode up to the bar to order his usual ale, then joined the shorter man. “Still hard at work, I see~”

“Not all of us can be a lord’s son, you know. Some of us must work for a living,” Vaughn replied with a grin. “How’s the wedding coming along?”

“Boring as ever.” Rhys took a sip of his drink, eyes scanning the room. “Fortunately, Fiona was as bored as I was with Mother’s flower talk. She faked a twisted ankle to get us out of it. I may not be happy about being married off, but at least I’m lucky to have a smart bride.”

“Aye, and a beautiful one, at that. You’re lucky. Have you seen some of your other potential matches?” Vaughn made a face of disgust, setting his quill into the inkpot. “Though, my fortunes may be rougher. Father’s pushing me to find someone, but I’m afraid the only sort I attract are the barmaids…” He trailed off, glancing out to see what the taller boy was looking at.

A rather large group of men, and some of the barmaids, had gathered around an older-looking sailor. He was perched atop the table, feet resting on a chair and hat clutched to his chest as he spoke excitedly. His shirt was rather dirty, vest buttoned unevenly, face caked in gunpowder. It looked as if he’d been in a rather gruesome fight.

“He’s been in here for some time, now. Came staggering in and sat near the wall in silence for nigh two hours, nursing his mead. Another sailor approached him, asking what had happened. It seems his ship ran afoul of pirates,” Vaughn supplied in a hushed tone.

“Pirates!” Rhys gasped, looked to his friend. “Vaughn, do you think it could be—“

“Don’t! Shh, don’t speak his name! You’ll invite ill fortune into this tavern and this town!” Vaughn cut the taller boy off harshly. The pirate captain in question had been the terror of the trade routes for several years now. Always just out of reach of the authorities, always in the right place at the right time. And Rhys had been enthralled with the tales as long as they’d been around.

“YES, IT WAS HIM, IT WAS HANDSOME JACK!”

The exclamation had the crowd gasping, and the two boys’ heads turning to the stranger. He was standing on the chair now, looking around wildly. Rhys managed to make eye contact with him, and in that instance, he noticed something odd.

The stranger’s left eye was milky white, the edges marred by a nasty scar.

“There we were, just off the coast, most of the men settled in their bunks for the night. I was up in the crow’s nest, keepin’ watch. I sees a ship, I did, comin’ up starboard side, creepin’ slow. Oh, she was a massive one, that she were…I’d know her anywhere. _The Angel_ , slicin’ through the waves. So’s I scurried down to wake the crew, get ‘em up. Oh, it was a fight fer the ages!” The old sailor kept going, describing the battle between the ships. Rhys and Vaughn crept closer, eager to hear more. Another look from the stranger had Rhys stopping in his tracks, however. “He was there, I saw him, waving his sword, commanding his men! And I was left as the only survivor…Dropped here in your port to tell the tale.” The stranger hopped down from the chair then, coming up to grab Rhys by the lapels. Up close, he could see that the scar extended up from the sailor’s eye, coming to a point on his forehead, then down the other side of his nose and to his right cheek. He could see the sailor’s other eye, blue as the ocean. The cut of the man’s jaw, the streak of grey peeking out near his hairline. He could see through the gunpowder and grime who this man really was. 

“Best lock up tight tonight…”

With that, the sailor released Rhys, tossed a small coin purse onto the table, then strode out, presumably to head to the docks. The crowd immediately broke into a string of hushed murmurs, but parted to let Vaughn collect the purse for his father. He took it back to his corner, Rhys following close behind.

“Vaughn,” Rhys spoke in an excited whisper, “do you know who that was?”

The smaller boy raised an eyebrow in question.

“It was _him_ , Vaughn! I know it was!” 

Vaughn sighed, shaking his head. “He was nothing more than a crazy old sailor. It couldn’t have been the man you think. Check your pockets, though. Make sure nothing’s gone missing.” He looked back down, counting and recounting the coins from the purse.

“I know it was him…” Rhys sighed, sitting back to nurse the rest of his ale. As he did, a plan began to form in his mind. A plan that would surely relieve him of his political duties. Permanently.

*****

That night found Rhys sitting on the edge of his bed, a pistol strapped to his side and sword in its sheath. He’d dismissed his servant over an hour ago, redressed himself in what he considered a less conspicuous outfit, and strapped his weapons to his belt. Not that he knew how to use them effectively, but he could learn along the way. Now he was just waiting for the opportune moment.

He did feel a bit guilty about leaving Fiona in the dark like this…But it would ruin everything if he left a note behind. Someone else could easily find it before her, tear it open and read it, take it to his fath—

Just then, he heard the telltale boom of cannon fire. This was it, this was his chance! He took a deep breath, stood, and strode over to the window. As he opened it, the cool salty breeze reached in, as if to caress his face and encourage him on. He took another deep breath and looked down, assessing how he could best climb down to safety. Once he’d figured it out, he swung his leg over the ledge and carefully began climbing down. He made it to the ground safely, took one last look at his home, then turned and started running towards the docks.

The boom of cannons was now interspersed with the pop-pop-pop of muskets and pistols, a woman’s scream occasionally piercing the racket. Rhys kept to the alleys and side streets, wanting to avoid running into any authorities. Unfortunately, he didn’t think about the possibility of running into pirates.

As he rounded a corner, Rhys came face-to-face with a gangly man brandishing a sword. Not thinking of his own weapons, Rhys shrieked and grabbed a nearby pole to wield against the pirate. But when he held it up with a stuttered warning to stay back, the man only laughed in his face.

“You ain’t worth my time, boy,” the man grinned, pushing Rhys aside.

Rhys caught himself against the wall and watched in shock as the man continued on, disappearing from his sight. He couldn’t allow himself to be afraid. Soon, he’d be surrounded by these men, and he’d need to hold his own with them. He quickly pushed away from the wall and continued on to the docks.

By the time _The Angel_ was in sight, the cannons had died down. Rhys was thankful for that. He didn’t much fancy having to dodge whizzing cannonballs. Peeking from behind a stack of crates, Rhys made sure no one was around to catch him. It seemed everyone was preoccupied, either fighting or running, so Rhys quickly sprinted towards the water.

The ship couldn’t properly pull up to the docks, as the shore was too shallow. But Rhys found several old fishing boats tied up nearby. He quickly untied the smallest and climbed in, then silently paddled himself closer to the imposing ship. As he drew near, he could hear a couple of voices talking. They sounded like they were near the rope ladder dangling from the side, but he couldn’t be sure. So he slowly made his way to the other side. As luck would have it, he found a rope hanging just low enough, that if he jumped, he could surely grab it. Unfortunately, this meant he’d only get one chance to catch the rope. He paddled right underneath it, laid the oar across the small boat to try and keep it steady, then carefully stood. Steeling his nerves with a slow, deep breath, he crouched, then leapt as high as he could, stretching his arms out to catch hold of the rope.

By some miracle, he caught hold of it. But the force of his suddenly-added body weight caused the rope to swing quite a bit. He nudged the hull with his toes, attempting to keep himself from smashing into the side. Once it was steady, he began to climb up.

A quick glance up revealed that there were indeed men on deck. One was walking the length of this side of the ship, his back to where Rhys was using the rope to climb up. Biting his lip to keep quiet, he looked for another option. And there to his right was an open window. It seemed luck was certainly on his side. As quietly as he could, he began to swing himself, trying to get closer to the window. Once he was close enough, he held his breath, let go of the rope, and caught the ledge of the window to quickly scramble inside with no regard to where he was or who might be inside.

As he fell to the floor, he winced at the clatter he made. The footsteps rushing towards him had him scrambling for a hiding place. A heavy oak desk was positioned in the center of the room. It was large, big enough to afford the lanky boy a spacious hiding spot. He quickly crawled under it, tucking his knees up to his chin.

“It came from in here!” a whiney voice called.

“Yes, well,” another, slightly deeper voice replied, “that’s the captain’s room. You know we’re not allowed in, Cookie. C’mon, let’s get back on deck. The captain can handle himself.”

Thankfully, the sound of fading footsteps was the next thing Rhys heard. But he didn’t want to risk getting into any more trouble. So he kept himself wedged under the captain’s desk.

 _Handsome Jack’s desk_ , he reminded himself.

Hiding and keeping quiet was more tiresome than Rhys had thought it would be though, and soon, he found himself drifting off. He was too far gone to hear the creak of the door and snick of the lock, or the thump of boots treading across the floor. He didn’t hear the clink of a belt buckle, or the rustle of clothes being shed, or even the squeak of bedsprings as a body laid itself down for sleep.


	2. Stowaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack wakes up to find an uninvited guest in his quarters. Rhys strikes a deal to stay on board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how quickly I got this chapter written! I wanted to get it up before my parents come to visit, so I may have rushed through this a bit? I apologize if it seems that way. But I'm pretty pleased with it! If you're a fan of not-so-innocent Rhys, you're in for a little treat~

Jack awoke to the smell of burnt eggs and a rapid knocking on his door. He groaned, trying to ignore the smell and the noise, pulling the covers up over his head. Maybe if he ignored the problem, it would go away.

“Rise and shine, Cap'n! Breakfast is ready!” Cookie called. Of course, it wouldn’t go away. It was persistent and annoying and it never shut up. With a huff, he threw the covers off and stalked over to the door. He yanked it open to reveal the squat, blonde man holding a big plate of charred eggs and an unidentifiable meat. The cook was grinning at him, obviously proud of his transgressions against breakfast.

“Why is it that every time we get eggs, you burn them?” Jack asked, snatching the plate from the cook. He glared down at the plate, as if his anger could unchar the food. “The second we find someone better than you, I’ll have you taking a long walk off a short plank.”

The cook reached up to adjust his monocle, looking nervously around with his one eye. “B-but, Cap'n, I c-can’t swim! I’d sink like a rock, go right to the bottom, I’d dr–”

“That’s exactly my point, Mr. Trap.” Jack gave the cook a true shark’s grin, then closed the door on him. He turned and set the plate heavily on his desk, then went to his wash basin to clean his face and wash his hands. With the water splashing, he didn’t hear the small gasp from under his desk. After he’d cleaned up, he returned to the desk and sat down. But as he made himself comfortable, his foot nudged something…pliable.

Jack quickly stood, sending his chair flying back as he bent down to inspect the lump under his desk. Staring back at him was a pair of wide, brown eyes. The same wide, brown eyes he’d stared down in the tavern yesterday afternoon, the same slicked-back hairstyle of the young noble he’d warned. Angrily, he grabbed the boy by his lapels and drug him from under the desk.

“How the hell did you get in here? We weren’t taking prisoners last night!”

The boy gave him a nervous smile. “I-I, uh…I snuck on? While you were raiding the town?” He was dressed in brown pantaloons, a matching vest with copper clasps, and an off-white linen shirt. It wasn’t nearly as fancy as the teal, silver-threaded frock coat he’d been wearing in the tavern, but Jack could tell it was definitely the same boy. And despite the attempt to dress as a poor boy, he made Jack feel rather underdressed as he stood there in his underclothes and bare feet. It was something in the boy’s face, to be sure. The smoothness of his jaw, the innocence in his eyes…It made Jack want to destroy him in every way possible.

With a disgusted little noise, he released the boy, letting him fall against the desk. “The last thing I need is the Royal Navy chasing me down to retrieve some lord’s brat. At the next port, you’re off my ship and in a carriage back to your mommy and daddy.” He turned to grab his pants, hastily pulling them on.

“B-but, Jack—“

“THAT’S CAPTAIN JACK TO YOU, BOY!” he roared as he spun back around to glare at the insolent little thing now trembling before him. Stalking closer, he crowded the brunette against his desk, planting his hands on either side of him on the desk. “You address me as _Captain_ , or you don’t address me at all. Savvy?” This close again, he could feel the stirring in his pants once again. Having this brat on board would surely be about as unlucky as having a woman aboard.

“Y-yes, sir…Captain,” he breathed, eyes glued to Jack’s. 

Now that the matter was settled, Jack stepped back, pulling the boy out of his way before righting his chair and taking a seat. He took a bite, then pointed his fork at the boy. “You got a name?”

The boy only stared, looking as if he might jump out the window at a moment’s notice.

With a sigh, he rolled his eyes and asked again. “What’s your name, princess? Tell me, or I’ll give you a new one.”

“Rhys. Rhys Gallagher. I-I’m sorry, Captain Jack, sir, I just…I’m set to be married to this girl, and I don’t want to…N-not that she’s not a nice girl, Fiona’s—She’s lovely. And a great friend. I just…Sir, I want to join your pirate crew! Please, I’ll do anything!” The boy, Rhys, was on his knees now, just beside Jack’s chair.

Jack stared him down, jaw falling a bit slack, but lips staying closed. He swallowed his bite, blinked, then burst into raucous laughter, causing Rhys to flinch. He slapped his knee with one hand, the other dropping his fork to his plate. Unfortunately, the laughter loosened up something in Jack’s throat, causing him to go into a coughing fit. Rhys sprung to his feet, thumping the older man on the back a few times, as he believed Jack was choking. Jack pushed him away as he cleared the phlegm from his throat.

“Let’s get one thing straight right now, kitten. We’re not pirates. We _hunt_ pirates. We’re the good guys,” Jack explained, giving Rhys a charming grin.

Rhys furrowed his brow, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he absorbed the information. “But you…Last night, you raided the town. A-and all the stories I’ve heard, of you fighting Royal Navy ships, or taking cargo from trade ships…”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, did you think your precious Royal Navy were the ultimate good guys? Did you think all the merchants were just innocent souls bringing cargo to the Crown?” Jack sneered. “Not everything is so starkly good or bad. Your navy attacks us, we don’t ever fire first. We take cargo from thieves, not just any merchant. And last night, we were looking for pirates. I’d heard a certain captain had been spotted near your port. So no, we’re not _pirates_. We’re heroes.” Jack turned back to his breakfast, angrily shoving more food into his face. “An’ that’s why, next port, you’ll be off my ship and safely on your way back to mommy, daddy, and your lovely bride.”

Rhys sighed, stepping closer again. “Captain…Sir, please, I’ll do _anything_ to stay on board.” He leaned down, lips nearly brushing Jack’s ear as he whispered, “Anything you desire~”

The lasciviousness of the offer coming from those plump, pink lips wasn’t lost on Jack. However, he couldn’t be swayed so easily. If the boy wanted to stay, he’d have to earn his passage, just like every other man on board. “You want to escape that pampered life so badly, eh? Let’s start you in the galley with Mr. Trap, then. Can you peel a potato, boy?”

“N-no, sir,” Rhys responded, standing straight once again as Jack stood from his chair.

“Well, neither can he. But you’re young, you’ve still got your wits about you. You can learn. Maybe with enough practice, you can replace him as our cook.” As he spoke, Jack pulled his linen shirt over his head, then donned his jacket. “Come on, you want to join my crew, you’ll work like they do. Get moving, princess!”

Jack’s harsh bark had Rhys moving instantly. He hustled to the door, holding it open for the captain, acting in deference. Jack strode through, tipping his hat to the two crew members pushing mops around just outside his door. Rhys followed behind him, letting the door bang shut.

*****

In the galley, Rhys proved less useful than Mr. Trap. He didn’t know the first thing about cooking. The cook sat him down at a small table with a knife and a pile of potatoes that looked as if they were near spoiled. He showed Rhys what he thought was the proper way to peel potatoes, then turned back to the big pot of what he called “stew”.

“It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to down here. Cap’n usually thinks I get too distracted, or that I talk too much. He’s even called me a threat to the crew’s lives!” he sing-songed as he climbed up on the stool he had in front of the pot.

“Then why doesn’t he hire someone else?” Rhys asked, starting to peel the potatoes as he’d been shown.

“Oh, he owes me!” the squat man cheerfully supplied. “Don’t tell him I told you, but I helped him get where he is today!” The cook’s words made Rhys curious to hear more, but the man didn’t seem intent to share any more than that. He simply started humming a lively—if off key—tune as he stirred the pot.

Rhys lost himself thinking up what way this strange man could’ve been of any help to a man like Handsome Jack. And of course, his thoughts had to take a detour there. He’d heard tales and seen drawings of what the captain looked like, the large inverted v scar being the most prominently talked-about feature. But none of that did the man justice. The man was, in Rhys’s not-so-humble opinion, an ethereally handsome creature. Most men Jack’s age had taken to the drink, letting their bellies droop over their belts, faces sallow and hair thinning. Jack had a roguish charm about him, jaw sharp and proud, a broad set of shoulders, dark brown hair still thick and lush. Whether it was the sea-faring life that kept the man fit or not, Rhys certainly wasn’t about to complain. Having seen the dark hairs curling up from under the man’s undershirt that morning, catching that glimpse of his torso, having had the man in his personal space like that…It left Rhys wanting more.

Suddenly, the knife slipped, tip piercing through the small web of skin between his thumb and forefinger and slicing it deeply. He cried out, dropping both knife and spud, and causing the cook to startle and fall off his stool. As the smaller man picked himself up and rushed over, Rhys cradled his injured hand close to himself with no regard to the blood flowing down and dripping onto his clothes. Mr. Trap, upon seeing the blood, frantically began fussing over Rhys, grabbing the cleanest cloth he could find and tearing a strip from it before wrapping it tightly around Rhys’s hand.

“Oh, Cap’n’ll have my head for this for sure!” he moaned, clearly more upset than Rhys.

“I-It’ll be okay. This was my fault, I should’ve been paying more attention to what I was doing. And besides, Captain Jack’s the one who sent me down here in the first place~” Rhys gave the other man a weak smile.

Just then, the door burst open, and the man in question came striding in. “How’s our new cabin boy doing, Trap?” He placed a large hand on the cook’s shoulder, turning to grin at Rhys. The grin was dropped quickly, however, when he caught sight of the blood on Rhys’s clothes and the quickly-reddening cloth wrapped around his hand. “What’s this?” he barked, shoving the cook away to grab Rhys’s wrist and yank him up to inspect his hand.

“I, uh…I cut myself peeling potatoes. It’s nothing, really, sir! I should’ve been paying more attention,” Rhys offered, blushing as he glanced up to the captain’s face. “I did try to tell you, I’m not cut out for kitchen work.”

“Are you trying to tell me how to run my ship, boy?” the captain growled.

“No, sir, only trying to be of use.”

The captain sighed, tugging Rhys towards the door. “Let’s go figure this out in private.” As they went, the older man grabbed a pair of apples. No more was said until they were back in the captain’s quarters.

Jack had taken his seat at his desk, propping both booted feet up on the surface, crossing them at the ankles and taking a bite of one of the apples. The other, he tossed to Rhys, who was standing on the other side of the desk. Rhys fumbled a bit, due to his injured hand, but managed not to drop the apple.

“So…You can’t do kitchen work. With that bummed hand, you won’t be able to push a mop around the deck. I doubt you’re strong enough to help with the sails. In fact, you don’t look like you’ve done a day’s hard work in your life. I could take the time to train you, leave you in the care of my first mate, Wilhelm. He’d toughen you up, for sure. But why would I waste the time, when I could easily replace you with ten strapping young lads in the next port?” He eyed Rhys as he took another bite, causing a shiver to run down the boy’s spine.

“Well…Manual labor can’t be the only thing you have need of on the ship, can it, sir?” Rhys asked, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He raised his own apple up to his lips, lowering his eyelids a bit and playing up his own innocent looks as he took a bite, aiming to look more seductive than he had any right to be. From the way the captain swallowed, he assumed his actions had the intended effect. “I can read and write, I can do enough math to keep a book in proper order, and I know a bit about navigation.”

Jack moved to set his feet on the floor, clearing his throat. “You think just because I have a sea-faring life, I’m illiterate? Awful rude of you, kitten. And I’ve got a navigator. Timothy’s been with me since the beginning. Best navigator on the waters, if you ask me. Though, I wouldn’t mind having help keeping my books in order. Not that I can’t do it, it’s just bloody boring. What else can you offer me?”

Rhys bit his lip, glancing down to the floor as he stepped closer to the desk. “I’m sure your bed gets cold at night. It’s so big…Must be awful lonely~” He traced his fingertips along the edge of the desk, looking up through his lashes.

Staring back at him, Jack absently licked his lips. “Any time I step onto land, I’ve got women aplenty throwing themselves at me. Why would I take a spoiled brat to bed? I’d be the one doing all the work, I bet.”

“You don’t make port every night. Surely, I’m cleaner than the tavern wenches.” Rhys climbed up onto the desk, rather than walking around. Staying on his knees, he reached forward with his uninjured hand to place a finger under the captain’s chin, gently drawing his face forward. “I may not be as experienced,” he whispered, “but at least I’ll be only yours.”

He could hear the way the captain swallowed upon hearing this offer, and he knew he’d won.

“Well,” the older man said, pushing himself back and clearing his throat. “It’s a tempting offer. I’ll need some time to think about it. Go find Mr. Lawrence, red hair, freckles, glasses, you can’t miss him. Ask any of the crew, they’ll point him out. Have him show you around the ship. After dinner, you’ll come back to my quarters and…and we’ll see.”

With a grin, Rhys climbed back down off the desk. “Thank you, Captain Jack. I’m sure you won’t regret it~” With that, Rhys turned to go to the door and do as he was told. But as he reached for the handle, Jack stopped him.

“Have Timothy find you a clean set of clothes. It won’t do to have you walking around looking as if you’ve killed something.”

“Yes, Captain,” Rhys said, slipping out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story got such a great response in the first chapter! Thank you all so much! And to everyone reaching this point, thank you! Hmu on Tumblr @[hipsterizzy](http://hipsterizzy.tumblr.com/)! Sometimes I make blurbs, mostly I reblog memes and fanart.


	3. Cabin Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys meets Timothy, then makes an impression on the captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, it's been almost a month since I updated, I'm so sorry! ;n;

As the captain had said, Timothy hadn’t been hard to find. His red hair and slightly sunburnt face stood out among the crew. Rhys had found him near the wheel, standing next to a large older man with scars running down his arms and across his bare chest. The larger man was commanding the wheel with ease, while the smaller one pored over a map. Rhys didn’t want to interrupt the navigator, but he had been given orders from the captain. So he cleared his throat and approached the wheel.

That earned him a snarl from the man at the wheel, which caused the redhead to look up. He readjusted his glasses as he peered at Rhys.

“I, ah…How did you get aboard? Does the captain know you’re here?” Timothy moved forward, but a large hand came up to stop him. He looked up and smiled fondly at the older man. “It’s alright, Wilhelm, I’m sure he’s no threat. Otherwise, he’d be in shackles…or worse,” Timothy said, gently pushing the big man’s hand down. “Go on, tell us, it’s alright.”

Rhys watched the pair skeptically. “My name is Rhys. The captain sent me to find a man named Timothy Lawrence?”

“Ah, a new addition to the crew, then. Good! It’s always nice to see a fresh face,” Timothy spoke cheerfully as he looked over Rhys, noting the blood and bandaged hand. “What will you be doing?”

Rhys’s cheeks heated at that. Should he tell the truth? He wasn’t even sure of what the truth was. Lying might be better. “I’ll be helping in the galley. And possibly helping the captain with his books? I’m not sure, actually.” It was a partial lie.

Timothy nodded sagely. “That explains the bandage and blood. Let’s find you something cleaner to wear, then I’ll show you around.” As he said this, Wilhelm gave Rhys a threatening sneer, but before he could speak, Timothy stepped over and stood on tip-toe to whisper in his ear before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. That seemed to calm the large man. It also left Rhys with questions. He’d never seen two men so open in their affections. He decided it was best not to pry, however. With that settled, Timothy turned to lead Rhys away from the wheel and to a small room near the captain’s. “You’re thin, but I should have something to fit you.” So this was Timothy’s room. Rhys watched the redhead dig through a trunk, tossing aside clothes that were definitely too large for either of them. It was probably safe to assume that they belonged to Wilhelm.

“Aha! These should be perfect!” Timothy exclaimed, holding up a pair of black pantaloons. Rhys canted his head to the side, drawing his lips into a thin line.

“Funerary attire?” he asked the redhead, sneering at the garment.

“You’re not exactly in a position to argue. Are you aware of that?” Timothy shot back. “This is probably all I’ve got that will fit you. Go on, try them on.” He thrust the offending article towards Rhys, who begrudgingly took it and turned around to change. As he did, he could hear muffled muttering and more clothes being tossed about. The pantaloons weren’t the high quality Rhys was used to, but once he’d pulled them on, he found they were comfortable. Turning back around, he held his arms out to show off.

Timothy looked up and frowned. “They are a bit snug…Here, put this shirt on.” He held up a cream-colored shirt with ruffled sleeves and a laced front. Rhys took it and once again turned to change. “You don’t really seem the sea-faring type. Tell me, what’s brought you to us?”

Rhys bit his lip as he dropped his soiled shirt. He couldn’t tell this man who he was, for fear the crew would pressure the captain to take him back home. Or worse, extort him. “I grew up hearing tales of Captain Jack’s heroism. I, ah…I guess you could say I idolize him? Yesterday, I heard rumors in the tavern that he was near port, so I went home and waited patiently until I heard the noise. Then I snuck aboard the ship.” He shrugged as he tucked the shirt in, making sure it would spill over the top of the pants to hide how snug they were. He then turned to show off once again. “Well?”

“Ah, you look like a proper cabin boy now!” Timothy exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Now, let’s see what I can do about that cut. It won’t do to have it infected.” He took Rhys by the wrist and pulled him over to the bed, seating him on the edge. It was a fairly large bed, certainly too large for one man. Rhys then remembered how affectionate Timothy had been towards Wilhelm, and a blush crept across his cheeks at the realization. The redhead was still rummaging around in a nearby desk, muttering about a misplaced ointment. When he finally found it, he held it up and exclaimed in triumph, causing Rhys to flinch. “Wilhelm’s always coming back aboard with a new scratch or scrape. This comes in pretty handy~” He stepped over and took Rhys’s injured hand in his, starting to unwrap the makeshift bandage.

“You seem to be very…fond of Wilhelm,” Rhys said slowly, trying not to offend the navigator. His words caused the older man’s cheeks to turn a deeper shade of red.

“We’re married, actually~” Timothy supplied as he took a clean cloth to dab the ointment over Rhys’s wound. Rhys hissed as it touched his flesh. “Not…in the eyes of the church, of course, but a ship’s captain has the power to officiate weddings. At first, he was quiet, wouldn’t speak a word to me. But over time, he opened up, we got to know each other better, fell in love…It was actually the captain’s idea that we wed.” Timothy smiled brightly up at Rhys as he tied a separate clean cloth around his wound. “Now, let’s go get you acquainted with the rest of the crew~”

*****

Once Rhys had gotten acquainted with the ship and the crew, and once he’d been properly fed, Timothy led him back to the captain’s room. Timothy had offered to go in with him, but Rhys assured the navigator that it was a meeting of a more private nature, one that neither he nor the captain would appreciate an audience to. So the pair bid each other a good evening and Timothy turned to go back to his own room.

Now that he was alone, however, Rhys felt a sense of trepidation. Captain Jack had given him no guarantee that tonight would earn him a permanent spot on the ship. He was still well within his rights to drop Rhys at the next port to be sent back to his family and back to his awaiting bride. Steeling himself against those thoughts, he raised his fist and knocked softly on the door. From within, he heard the gruff command to enter. He quietly let himself in, turning the lock once the door was closed.

The captain was seated behind his desk, drinking rum from a crystal goblet. A second goblet sat near the edge closest to Rhys. As he looked up, he gestured to it, smiling at the boy. “Only the finest, for a lord’s son~”

Rhys picked up the goblet and gave it a sniff before taking a sip. “It’s good,” he acknowledged as he came around the desk. “But there’s no need to romance me, Captain.” He took another sip, then settled himself on Jack’s lap, bringing his free hand up to caress the older man’s jaw as he leant in to whisper in his ear. “Tonight is all about your pleasure~” That earned him a shiver and a hand tightening on his hip.

“Startin’ to see why you’d rather play cabin boy than marry that dear, sweet Felicity…” Jack watched him take another, longer drink, licking his lips as Rhys finally set the goblet down. He leaned in again, as if he were going to kiss the older man, but stopped short.

“Her name’s Fiona, sir,” he whispered.

“Her name isn’t important, boy,” the captain growled back. “I’m not a patient man.”

With a nod, Rhys dipped his head to trail teasing kisses along the captain’s jaw. Jack tilted his head to give him more access. As he went, he reached up to unfasten the captain’s shirt, making it easier to continue his trail south. His kisses got more insistent, a well-placed nip here and there pulling a gasp from the captain.

“You’re a confident one,” Jack mused. Rhys only gave him a smirk as he moved to straddle the man.

Once he was situated more comfortably, he leaned in to begin sucking at the crook of Jack’s neck, his left hand reaching down to palm the slight bulge in the front of Jack’s pants. Jack chuckled, reaching up to gently tug Rhys’s hair until the boy sat up to look at him again.

“You wouldn’t be trying to lay claim on me, now, would you?” Rhys’s cheeks heated at the accusation. “Only I get to do any marking, and that’ll only be if I decide to keep you. And right now, my patience is starting to wear thin. Move it along, princess~”

Rhys nodded vigorously, then quickly worked the captain’s belt and pants open with trembling fingers. He shouldn’t be nervous. He’d received praise every time before for his oral skills. No, it was only the threat of having to go back home and lie to his father about why he’d gone missing that was causing the tremor in his fingers. With determination, he wrapped his fingers around the captain’s cock and began stroking in earnest, only sliding to his knees on the floor once the flesh was fully erect. Jack grinned down at him, pushing thick fingers through his hair.

“That’s more like it, kitten~”

Spurred on by the small bit of praise, Rhys leaned forward and licked a slow stripe up the underside, planting a wet kiss to the head once he reached it. The captain shivered again, giving Rhys a smoldering look when their eyes met again. Keeping the eye contact, Rhys wrapped his lips around the head with a soft moan, keeping his hand on the base and squeezing gently as he swirled his tongue.

“’S a good look for you, princess. Down on your knees, mouth full of me.”

The captain’s words caused a stirring in the boy’s pants, but he ignored it for now, choosing to start bobbing his head. He closed his eyes as he worked the older man’s length into his mouth inch by inch, his free hand on Jack’s thigh to keep himself steady.

A rough chuckle and the toe of a boot gently pressing to the front of his pants had him flicking his eyes back up to the captain’s face, however. “Isn’t this just precious~?” The slight pressure forced a moan from Rhys’s throat. “Imagine…A lord’s son, sneaking onto my ship just to get on his knees and get his mouth on my flesh~” Rhys could feel his cheeks heating more, knowing they had to be a bright red by now, but he worked dutifully, working his hand down to tease the captain’s balls as he buried his nose into the coarse hairs at the base of his arousal. But suddenly, the fingers in his hair were tugging him off and the boot was removing itself from his groin.

“Is this an enjoyable experience to you, princess?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rhys hesitated, but nodded slowly. “Y-yes, sir, captain…”

The captain’s large hand slid down to cup Rhys’s cheek, thumb swiping over his plush bottom lip. “Then remember not to ignore your own needs.” With that, he settled back in his chair and gestured for Rhys to get back to work.

Rhys complied eagerly, unfastening and pushing down his pants quickly to reveal his own arousal before leaning back in and beginning to bob his head once more. As he fisted his own cock, the captain’s hand returned to his hair, forcing him to take in the entire length. He allowed Jack to do as he pleased, swallowing around the flesh and delighting in the pleasured moans and curses dripping from the older man’s mouth. Once he was allowed to move his head again, he sucked in earnest, massaging the underside of the shaft with his tongue. He pumped his own shaft in time with his movements, flicking his eyes back up to the captain’s face.

“Oooh, you’re a gorgeous sight, kiddo…” Jack groaned. To Rhys’s surprise, however, the older man tugged harshly on his hair, removing his length from Rhys’s mouth and wrapping his own hand around it to start stroking quickly. Catching on to what the man wanted, Rhys opened his mouth and sped his own strokes up. It didn’t take long for Jack to hit his peak, thick ropes pumping across Rhys’s lips and cheek, dribbling down his chin. Rhys followed soon after, his mess leaking from between his fingers.

With a satisfied sigh, the captain released the boy’s hair and slumped back in his chair. The grin he wore sent a slight tremor down Rhys’s spine. He’d swallowed what managed to land in his mouth. Now, he raised his hand to his lips to lick the mess from his fingers. He kept his eyes on the captain, who watched him with interest. Once Rhys had cleaned off his hand, he made quick work of the mess on his face.

“Sweetheart,” the captain breathed, leaning forward to once again card his fingers through Rhys’s hair, “you’re filthy, but I think you’ll make a fine addition to my crew.”


	4. A Woman Aboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiona and Vaughn hire a strange merchant to help rescue Rhys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spongebob narrator voice* Seven months later...
> 
> I'm sorry I let this sit idle so long omg! Merr Crimus! ;w;

Back at the Gallagher estate, the lord and lady were frantic to find their son. Fiona sat on the couch with Rhys’s mother, patting her hand and trying to reassure her that Rhys would be all right. The governor and Lord Gallagher were huddled over a map with two men in Royal Navy attire. Fiona couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it seemed they were discussing trade routes. Pirates had come ashore the night before, and there were whispers flying about town that it had been Handsome Jack and his men.

When she heard a soft murmur, Fiona looked up to find that Lady Gallagher had apparently cried herself to sleep. She gently laid the older woman’s hand on her lap, then stood and motioned for her sister to follow. With the men occupied by the map, it was easy for the two girls to sneak off to Rhys’s bedroom.

“Fi, what are we doing?” Sasha asked, looking around nervously.

“Help me change into some of Rhys’s clothes. I’m going down to the tavern to see if any of the men saw or heard anything. Rhys is friends with the owner’s son,” she explained to the younger girl.

Sasha eyed Fiona curiously for a moment, then stepped closer to unfasten Fiona’s dress and corset. “If you think it’s a good idea…What should I tell Father?”

“Hmm,” she hummed. As the corset fell loose from her frame, however, she breathed deeply, enjoying the feeling. “We’ll bunch up some pillows under the covers. Tell him I’m overcome with grief and retired to my husband-to-be’s bed for comfort.” She couldn’t see it, but she knew her sister was smiling. “I have a feeling I know what happened to Rhys…Or, rather, what he’s done to himself.”

Now that she was down to her knickers, Fiona moved quickly about the room to find a decent outfit. She started with a sheet, picking up a dagger and ripping a long strip from the fabric, causing Sasha to gasp. “He won’t miss it. Help me tie it around my chest,” she commanded as she began to bind it around herself. Sasha obeyed, pulling a hair pin from her own tresses to secure the fabric. Next, Fiona found an undershirt and pulled it on, spreading her arms and turning to her sister. “Well?”

Giggling, Sasha covered her mouth. “You look like a long-haired boy~”

“I can pin it up and hide it beneath a hat.” She grinned, then turned to find a suitable pair of stockings and breeches. Quickly, she pulled them on, tucking the shirt into the waist. Next, she grabbed a modest jacket and pulled it on. “Do you think anyone will question my shoes?” she asked the younger girl as she slid them back on.

“Doubtful,” Sasha sighed. She turned to the bed and began arranging the pillows in a way so that they could pass for a curled figure under the covers. While she did, Fiona stood in front of the mirror and let her hair down to begin repinning it to look like a man’s haircut underneath a hat. She thanked her lucky stars that Rhys had a slight frame. Were he any bigger, his clothes would’ve swallowed her and she never could’ve gone unnoticed in public. She chose a modest yet broad-rimmed hat to complete the look, not wanting to draw undue attention to herself with one of Rhys’s fancier things. As Sasha covered the pile of pillows, Fiona gathered her own clothes and laid them across a chest at the foot of Rhys’s bed. If they were laid out neatly, it would be more believable that Sasha had helped her get comfortable.

“I believe I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” she said quietly, causing Sasha to turn. “I just hope that little man knows Rhys as well as Rhys claims he does. If he tries to keep Rhys’s whereabouts a secret, I’ll–”

“Fi!” Sasha hissed, cutting her big sister off with a hand over her mouth. “Don’t raise your voice. If the servants hear, you’ll never make it off the grounds. Best hurry, if you want to find him quickly.”

Fiona nodded, giving her sister a quick hug. “Thanks, Sash…I’ll try to be quick.” With that, she turned and went to the window, mentally assessing the safest way down. Once she had it figured out, she climbed out, giving her sister one last smile. She made it without a problem, then turned and headed to the tavern.

*****

Upon arriving at the tavern, Fiona had no trouble finding the owner’s son. The short man was at a corner table, a large book splayed open and a small pile of coins haphazardly sat next to a velvet pouch. She approached him calmly, not wanting to call attention to herself. But as she slid into the seat opposite the brunette, she cleared her throat.

Vaughn looked up, a worried expression on his face. “I’m sorry, might I help you, friend?”

Fiona kept her voice low as she replied, “I certainly hope you can, for your sake.” The bespectacled man frowned deeper, but before he could speak, she continued. “Rhys has gone missing. You’re his best friend, so I thought maybe you’d be able to point me in the right direction?”

Vaughn stared at her for a moment, pushing his glasses up. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“It’s me, Fiona. You know, his fiance? The governor’s daughter?” she huffed. When Vaughn’s eyes lit up, she quickly shushed him. “No one knows I’m here, Vaughn. So just tell me what you know, and I’ll be on my way.”

Vaughn gave her a pained expression, then glanced around the room before answering. “Do you remember what happened last night? The attack on the town?” Fiona nodded. “Well, earlier in the day, an old sailor came in raving about…a-about _Handsome Jack_! He grabbed Rhys at one point, brought him in close to speak to him. Rhys believed it was the captain himself, but…I don’t know…I think he may have run off with pirates…or worse.”

Fiona gaped at the smaller man. Had she heard him right? Was Rhys aboard the _Angel_? “We must go after him!”

“Are you _mad_? What am I saying, of course you are…Coming in here dressed like that…” Vaughn gave her an offended look. “We can’t possibly stand up to pirates. They’d gut us like fish!”

At that, Fiona stood and reached across the table to haul Vaughn up by his lapels. “My fiance…Your best friend, a man you consider to be your _brother_ , has been taken by a crew of dangerous men, is possibly being tortured, could end up dead, and you want to sit here and keep your father’s books?!”

“I-I keep s-some of the…of the merchants’ books, as well,” Vaughn added shakily.

“We’re going to find my fiance. You’re going to find me a ship and a crew, and we’re going to board it tonight. We’re going to set sail and hunt down these dogs, and we’re going to _get Rhys back safely_. Have I made myself clear?” Fiona growled. Vaughn simply nodded with a small whimper, anything to be released from her grip.

As soon as he was free, Vaughn began flipping through his books, looking through the merchants and muttering to himself. He finally stopped on a page near the back, frowning and giving a heavy sigh. “There’s…I know of one captain who might possibly be willing to help us…”

“That’s good! Perfect! He’s in port, right?” Fiona asked excitedly.

Vaughn gave her a worried look. “He is…Ah, he’s not exactly…What I mean to say is, this captain is…He’s rather, erm…How do I put this gently? He’s crazy.”

Fiona stared at the small man, blinking a couple of times as she processed the information. “He’s a crazy person?”

“He deals in odd things from foreign lands, curiosities, things the average person wouldn’t have much interest in. He has a small shop near the port where he showcases these items. When he’s off sailing, he lets a young girl run the shop. But he should be in right now,” Vaughn explained.

“Well…If he’s our only chance for passage, what are we waiting for?” Fiona countered as she stood.

*****

As they neared the shop, Fiona stopped, squinting to read the sign. “Shade’s World of Curiosities. Hm…” Vaughn gently tugged her along and up into the shop. There appeared to be no one behind the counter. Fiona looked over the eclectic and grotesque collection of shrunken heads, monkey paws, voodoo dolls, and other sundry things. Her eyes finally landed on a head in a jar. It was a man’s head, preserved with its eyes open and lips drawn back to show a toothy smile. There was a long piece of straw stuck between its teeth. Fiona furrowed her brows, leaning in to get a closer look.

Suddenly, the head blinked, and Fiona screamed as she stumbled back and into Vaughn’s arms. “H-he blinked! How did he do that? He’s just a head!”

Laughing, the head disappeared through the bottom of the jar, and moments later reappeared attached to a set of hunched shoulders behind the counter. “Hi there, friends! Welcome! Name’s Shade, owner and curator of this fine collection of oddities!”

“Hello, sir. Always a pleasure,” Vaughn greeted him with a slight bow. “This is my friend, Fi—“ he stopped himself, glancing to Fiona, then back to Shade. “Uh, Felix. We’re, ah…looking for passage on a ship.”

Shade stepped out from behind the counter, coming closer to get a better look at Fiona. “No harm meant, friend, but by that scream, I thought for sure you were a woman in men’s clothing! But if you’re looking to get on a ship, especially my ship, it’s good news you’re a man! Awful bad luck to bring a woman aboard.”

Fiona glanced to Vaughn, who once again spoke up. “Felix and I need to catch up to a ship. We believe our friend Rhys may have been taken by pirates,” he explained.

“Rhys, hm? And he’s been taken by pirates? Well, we best go rescue him! You two leave it to me, we’ll catch those pirates and save dear Lord Gallagher’s son! It’d be an awful shame if something happened to him before his wedding…” Shade trailed off as he puttered around his shop. He grabbed a few unmarked jars, then disappeared behind a curtain. A small girl came out moments later, giving them a snaggle-toothed smile.

“Uncle Shade says if you ain’t buyin’, get the hell out!”

“We’re sailing with him, actually,” Vaughn supplied helpfully.

“Uh-huuuh…” the girl drawled as she looked between the two. She settled for watching Fiona curiously, which caused Fiona to fidget nervously until Shade returned. Luckily, the short, strange man returned quickly to lead the trio down to the docks and aboard his ship. It wasn’t a long walk, but as they went, Fiona could feel the ache in her ribs. It wasn’t as bad as the ache she felt in a corset, the cloth being much more forgiving than the boning, but she knew she’d need to unwrap herself soon. As they approached the ship, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was small, but surely they’d each get a room to themselves.

Shade glanced back at the sigh, raising an eyebrow. “Everything all right, Felix?”

Before Fiona could answer, Vaughn piped up, “He’s just tired. We’ve been searching for our friend since last night, after the raid on the town.” Taking her cue from Vaughn’s answer, Fiona faked a yawn, covering her mouth with her forearm and nodding sleepily. The captain bought it and gestured to the plank leading up to the deck of the ship.

“Here she is, friends! Shade’s _Ship of Wonders_ is at your service!” The trio made their way up the gangway, then across the deck and down into the belly of the ship. “We don’t really have rooms, but the hammocks are pretty comfortable,” Shade said, gesturing at a few sheets strung up between posts. “Like being rocked to sleep by your mother!”

Fiona stared at the arrangement, trying to hide how disappointed she was.

“Well, get some rest! I’ll go talk to my first mate and we’ll get underway as soon as we can. If you need anything, I’m sure the shipwright’s around somewhere.” With that, Shade made his way back above deck.

Fiona turned to Vaughn, who was already making himself comfortable in a hammock. “I can’t sleep here,” she hissed. “I can’t sleep with my chest bound! And if Shade finds out, he’ll surely throw me overboard!”

Vaughn sat up to look at her. “Why can’t you sleep like that?”

“It would be like sleeping in a corset! I might suffocate in my sleep, or break a rib!” Fiona answered with a glare.

“Oh…I think I saw a closet nearby? Change in there. That shirt might just be loose enough that Shade won’t see anything indecent while you’re sleeping…” With that, Vaughn laid back down to sleep, unconcerned with Fiona’s predicament.

Fiona turned to seek out the closet. Upon finding it, she quickly ducked inside and began taking her shirt off to unbind, paying no mind to what sort of closet she was in, nor to the fast-approaching cheery tune being whistled outside. As she reached back to untie the binding, the door swung open, and a man yelped.

“Gosh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you was in here!” he cried, slamming the door shut again.

Fiona grabbed the undershirt and quickly pulled it over her head, then opened the door to see a man standing there with his hand over his eyes. “You…I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone would need this closet. Please, sir, don’t tell the captain!” she begged.

The man lowered his hand, eyes going wide. “You’re…y-you’re a woman? Shoot, that’s pretty brave, dressin’ up as a man and sneakin’ on board! You must be doin’ somethin’ pretty important…”

“I am! Very important. My fiancé has been taken by pirates, and I’m trying to rescue him,” Fiona explained hurriedly in a hushed tone. The man nodded along.

“Your secret’s safe with me, then. I might just be a shipwright, but you can count on me to keep you safe! The name’s Scooter,” the man whispered back, extending his hand.

“Call me Felix,” Fiona said as she shook his hand. “If we survive, I’ll tell you my real name~” She winked, causing Scooter to blush.

“I’m…I, uh, just need to get…this thing…” Scooter stammered, reaching around Fiona to grab a length of rope. “I’ll leave you to whatever it was you were doin’…We’ll be off soon, catchin’ up to your pirates.”

Fiona wiggled her fingers in a flirty wave as Scooter turned to go. Once he was out of sight, she relaxed and ducked back into the closet to get comfortable. Hopefully, she’d be able to trust the shipwright. If she gained nothing else from this unlikely friendship, at least she knew that she was equally attractive as a man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still following this story, please let me know.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I am really excited to share this one. Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


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